To Broonie

There I lay
On the dusty ground
In the mango shade
With a pup in my lap.

It was a sweet summer day
Cool breeze
The childhood days
Of no worry and desires.

In a way,
our breaths matched,
relaxing outside in the afternoon.
Sent out because the sister needed to study.

It was a magnificent pup,
Chasing neighbors,
Chasing monkeys,
and sleeping in the beds,
the huggable pillow.

I remember when it came,
Picked from its mother at a late age,
Still in memory of her,
It cried every night.
And the cries stopped in the middle.
My mother had silently slipped the pup on her bed.

Oh what fun it was,
Chasing the pup,
The pup chasing you.

But one day we had to go away,
For a long time and without it.
We left it with someone we knew with a farm,
And the asshole sold it to someone.

I remember the last day it was taken,
It hid beneath the chair,
It knew what was happening,
Only my mother was able to control it,
And with absolute sadness we gave it away,
Never to see it again.

Now it may very well have died,
But once in a while,
I close my eyes and open them to see,
The afternoon when I just lay,
In the mango shade,
Stroking it’s fur.
And I am happy again.